So You Think You Can Dance 4

A little background on me? In case you didn't know, I'm a dancer. I've danced since I was three; that makes nearly three decades of dance. I've done ballet, I've done jazz and despite messed up knees and feet, I even competed in ballroom. It's the thing I love dearly, and dancing definitely gives me a release from "real life." Sadly, I'm too much of an old lady to be on So You Think You Can Dance and despite being three months too old to audition this past January, it doesn't stop me from rooting for my friends!

Last night, Gev, a fantastic guy who danced with the company I dance with gave a stellar performance for the Salt Lake City round of auditions. He auditioned a couple of years ago, but didn't make the cut, and since then I've seen him progress and work his ass off taking other styles of dance to round out his breaking. I knew he'd do a great job, but more importantly he's just a genuine guy. He never walks into a rehearsal without stopping to tell everyone hello and give them a hug. Last month at a rehearsal, he told me I was skinny...

He's got my vote!

Check out the clip:

Back up and running!

I have had some serious router/internet issues here at home for over a week now and have not been able to get online with my DSL. Looks like things are all fixed and happy and I promise, lambs, I'll resume blogging very very soon.

I'm Famous.

Nevermind that I've been on radio and television in the Salt Lake area for quite some time now. My name has actually appeared in my friend's divorce papers, and it's hysterical.

(All names have been withheld to protect my own ass)

"For Christmas 2007, xxx put a bag from Victoria's Secret full of sexy panties under the tree and told me that a girl she works with 'Holly Braithwaite' gave them to her because xxx told Holly that I wouldn't buy her any new panties."

It's true. I bought "sexy panties" for a girl friend of mine for Christmas 2007. I like the quotes around my name like I allegedly call myself that. I also think that if I have a band one day I'm going to call it "Holly Braithwaite" and the Sexy Panties. We will play German polka music.

Random Images

Here are some random pictures taken from my phone while in the Long Beach airport, aka, "Satan's Butthole:"


This is the entire airport.


In case a flight breaks down, one of these available birds will take you and your luggage to the appropriate destination.


Right when you walk out the doors, your flight is waiting for you.


My toes look cute as I'm waiting.


This is a highly unfortunate bathing suit Urban Princess and I saw while at Old Navy this afternoon. This is not on an actual human. This is a print of an orchid-like flower that wraps around from back to front, however, I will refrain from expressing what we really called it.

Stuck in Hell

Today, I've been extremely happy for my whole flight from Boston to Long Beach, trying to end up somewhere near home in Salt Lake City. When I booked my flight, I thought that Long Beach wasn't that far from Salt Lake, but what I didn't take into account was the fact I'd be on my way here from the East Coast, which is about the farthest possible flight I could take without continuing onto Japan.

The Long Beach airport is a sad little place, there aren't any gates, rather, they sort of just wheel stairs up to the side of the plane while it's sitting out on the runway. When inside the single room, you find a bunch of sad people sort of wandering around, wondering if they're in the right place because none of the "gates" are labeled.

I saw a bird walking around on the carpet in front of me.

It's like the Long Beach airport has zapped all the fond memories of my trip this past weekend, that lasted right up until I walked through the doors of Logan International earlier this morning.

This little friend I rode at my almost sister-in-law's bachelorette party was certainly an interesting experience, yet definitely not the highlight of the trip:



There were many other good times this weekend, leaving me with thoughts of, "what now?"

The tooth saga continues. Still. Again.

While my tooth saga continues right up to my leaving for the east coast tomorrow evening, I have to admit there are some good people in the world. I finally decided to get a second opinion on why I was getting the dental run around since March. (Which, incidentally, is the last time I had a good night's sleep. Wednesday March 26, to be specific.) I decided to get a second opinion at Sugarhouse Dental Spa because if I was going to have to pay, I wanted a massage and a latte out of the deal. Not only are the folks who work there fantastic, but they immediately whisk you into a massage chair while you fill out your paperwork, and offer you a coffee.

Dr. Graham there confirmed everything my dentist had said about the debacle that has turned out to be my whole mouth, but he explained it in a way that made everything seem all better, and while he didn't fix anything today, I felt okay about the whole thing. As soon as I get all squared away, I'll return in six months for my cleaning.

And another latte.

And a paraffin dip on my hands.

So I leave on a jet plane tomorrow night, and when I return, I'll get that pesky root canal and maybe finally a full night of rest. While I'm excited to head to Boston, I am continually amazed about the cool stuff we have right here in Salt Lake. Namely, Larry Miller's Motorsports Park. Having always liked cars (my mom says I got the name Holly after her favorite movie, Breakfast at Tiffany's. My dad says I got the name Holly after his 1966 Corvette which had a Holley carburetor. I guess everyone won.) I found this particularly interesting.

The other night I met the host of the following video who had been out at Larry's raceway all day doing donuts in Mustangs and drooling over Shelbys. Rough job, for sure. And when I get back from Baahston next week, I'll have to play tourist in my own backyard and check out this great car museum we seemingly overlook here.



You can check out more at Garage419. It doesn't suck.